Falsehood
by Half-Winchester
Summary: Fred Weasley is a tease. I can't keep my eyes off of Draco Malfoy. I'm failing Transfiguration and was kicked off the Quidditch team for being too suggestive. I want to tell you these things, but, I can no longer tell the truth. All I was looking for was a few extra bucks, and now I can't even tell you my name. Falsehood isn't like Veritaserum. Falsehood doesn't wear off.


Falsehood

_Fred Weasley is a tease. I can't keep my eyes off of Draco Malfoy. I'm failing Transfiguration and was kicked off the Quidditch team for being too suggestive. Unfortunately, from this moment on, I can no longer tell the truth. All I was looking for was a few extra bucks, and now I can't even tell you my name…._

**Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Has A Job Opening FOR YOU!**

**Currently in search of a few people to help with product development. Contact Fred or George for further inquiry.**

I supposed that writing 'an aptitude for swallowing dangerous Potions' under special skills on my application would have been taken less seriously. But, I wound up, once a week, cooped up in a small classroom with the two twins drinking down whatever they handed to me. I had anticipated things like testing the love potions side effects and experiencing the day dreams they synthesized in bottles. But, I never expected anything like Falsehood.

The potion was already burning its way down my throat when they told me what it was. They had been trying to make a less severe truth-telling serum. "Veritaserum is just too intense. People seizing all over the place."

"This should have all the affectivity, and less side effects."

I nodded as I swallowed harshly. I started coughing. Fred (or George, I never kept much track) put a hand over my mouth and tilted my head back. "Don't spit it out, we spent a load of time on it."

George held out the bottle of Butterbeer from the nearby table. "Spoonful of sugar."

I drank it slowly, letting it ease my throat.

"How do you feel?"

Footsteps echoed through the empty common room. Without a sound, Fred and George gathered up the papers and bottles scattered around and disappeared behind a tapestry. By the time the intruder reached the bottom of the stairs, there was no sign of the two Gryffindors being in the wrong common room. I leaned back quickly and pretended to be asleep.

"Oi, what are you doing down here?" Draco Malfoy demanded as he entered.

I sat up as if startled awake. I rubbed my eyes while glaring at him. "Sleeping, obviously."

"I heard voices."

"Well, Draco, sit down on the couch then. Lay back and tell me more about these voices."

He didn't understand my insulation at first. Once realization crossed his face, he growled, "Shove off."

"Really. I'm a trained therapist. We could start with your childhood if you'd like. Mummy and daddy fight a lot?" I continued. "Did You Know Who touch your no-no square?"

Draco turned beet red. "I'm a prefect, you know!" He sputtered out.

"No, I didn't know." I put up my feet. "It's one of my main concerns."

"Do I even know you?"

"No, Draco. Not at all."

"Oh. Right. You're that Beater chick."

I sighed.

He crossed his arms. "I could give you a detention, you know."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Go for it." I shrugged.

"Fine. You have a detention."

"Yeah… I'm not a prefect or anything." I lifted up my crumpled robe so my prefect badge flashed his way.

His eyes widened. "Bloody hell." He stormed back up the stairs.

Fred and George morphed out of the shadows.

George looked disappointed. "So, that brew wasn't very effective."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"You just lied to Malfoy. If it had worked, you would've told him exactly what we were doing."

George and Fred set to calculating a new recipe and left soon after, promising to have a new brew within the next few days. It took quite a bit to crush their morale.

I finished the rest of my Butterbeer before heading up to bed. One of my roommates, Nadine, looked up at me desperately. "Tell me you wrote Snape's essay."

I began to rifle through my trunk. "I didn't write it." I stopped suddenly and stood straight. I had written the essay, days ago. "I haven't finished it…." I furrowed my eyebrows. My head was saying one thing and my mouth was saying another.

"You're going to be up all night then, Laur." She shook her head. "Can you at least help me with it? We could work together."

"No." I pressed a hand over my mouth.

"No?"

I turned on my heel and took a breath. "I… don't want to work together…" I began to feel dizzy. Why couldn't I just say what I wanted to say?

"Oh…" Nadine pouted.

"I… I… I want to go to sleep. I'm really tired."

"I won't bother you then, I'm sorry. Get some sleep." She smiled at me before wearily gathering her things and heading out of the room.

I slowly began to get undressed. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror before me after I was in my nightclothes.

"My name is…." I couldn't form my own name. "I am a Gryffindor." I shook my head. "I'm in… Hufflepuff." Clearly, the facts were impossible. I continued on, trying to tell myself that I was 17 years old, that I was born in Sheffield, that I was graduating this year. None of these things came out of my mouth. I became to feel even dizzier the more I tried to tell myself the truth.

Then it hit me. I was lying to myself. I had lied to Malfoy with ease, had even lied to Nadine.

I couldn't tell the truth.

xxXXxx

The sun came up, and I lay on my four poster, staring at the ceiling and trying to mutter something, anything, truthfully. No luck.

It must've been the potion. Something must've gone wrong. I had been reassuring myself all night. It'll wear off in a few hours. Right? Right.

Emilia, my roommate who woke with the sunrise, was getting dressed. "Lauriette, what are you doing awake?"

"I don't know," I lied. I'M FREAKING OUT, I wanted to shout.

"Does this skirt make me look fat?" Emilia asked, spinning around.

Oh, Merlin. Bloody hell, no. NO. "Yes." I covered my face.

"What?" She snapped shrilly.

"It makes you look really large," I blurted before jumping from bed and diving for the door.

In record time, I stood before the portrait to the Gryffindor house.

"Password?"

"This is my house!" I exclaimed.

"Then tell me the password." The Fat Lady looked put out.

"Get me Fred and George," I demanded.

"It doesn't work like that, dear."

I began to bang on the picture. "FRED! GEORGE! GET OUT HERE, YOU GITS!"

The portrait swung open quickly, and Harry Potter stood staring at me. "Who are you?"

I stormed past him, shoving him out of the way. I went straight up the steps to the boys common room and continued my banging and shouting routine until two red headed groggy twins appeared.

"Bloody hell, Lauriette, wake everyone while you're at it, will you?"

"Fred." I grabbed his shoulders. "I can't lie."

"What?" George questioned.

"You can't what?"

I grit my teeth, trying to form the correct sentence.

"I. Can't. Lie."


End file.
